Stunt's Logs - Part Two
by Italian writer
Summary: This is another part of the "Stunt" storyline, which tells the adventures of a human being, a police woman, who shares some powers with our time agents and helps them out in their assignments. Rated K plus for some language.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: this storyline also describes the development of a relationship between the OC and Steel, so if you don't like the concept, maybe you should skip it. But if you really want to enjoy it, just identify yourself with the OC! Also consider that the characters are more emotional than the original series.**

* * *

My name is Constance Stunt. I am 39 years old, and I am a detective at the Marina del Rey police department, L.A.

I keep two different logs: the official one, where I formally record all my cases, and the unofficial one – the one you're reading right now – where I keep track of my "time adventures."

You might be wondering what I'm babbling about. It's actually pretty hard to explain.

You see, I occasionally cooperate with a law enforcement agency of a different kind. A _very _different kind. They call themselves "operators", but I prefer to call them time agents. What does time have to do with them? Well, you see, these fellows actually fight time itself.

One of them once explained it to me: time is like an endless corridor flowing in one direction, but once in a while it feels the irrepressible need to sneak into the present and mess with it. So that's when these people step in and struggle with it.

And believe me, it can be a very harsh struggle sometimes. All of them have risked their lives more than once. Including me. Yes, because for some reason I seem to be especially sensitive to time, although I'm merely human, and they found out that I can actually help them in their fight. In exchange for my help, they assist me in catching the bad guys, so we have reached a mutually profitable deal.

But there's a catch: we can help each other only when time is involved, so don't start thinking that my percentage of solved cases is 80% just because I get some otherworldly help. That's mostly my doing, although a small part of those cases did involve people who realized that time could lend a big hand in accomplishing their criminal aims.

About one year ago I stumbled into one of their "time assignments", which incidentally was also my case, and that was when I met the team of operators I currently work with: Sapphire and Steel. Weird names, aren't they? That's because they're not just names; they actually _are _the elements they are named after, only in human form.

So Sapphire is sparkling, blue and precious, while Steel is ruthless, cold and grey.

That is, until you get to know them better. Sapphire is a beautiful woman, tall, blonde and always graceful, but she can be as hard and unrelenting as the gem she takes her name from. Steel, on the other hand, is apparently callous, unemotional and uncaring – and mostly he is – but if you look hard enough, you can see a passionate, warm and intense man.

Well, maybe that's stretching it a bit, but on more than one occasion I had the privilege of seeing this side of him – which I thought was meant only for his partner Sapphire – and I must say that it was a pleasant surprise. _Very _pleasant.

You might wonder what kind of relationship they have. Well, if you're not wondering, I sure was, but when I pressed the subject with said operators, I couldn't get a clear answer. Probably because they don't know themselves. Funny, really, because it's so clearly written all over them: they feel for each other very deeply, but they are too scared to explore those feelings since they must work together. Which is not a good enough reason not to shift their relationship to a more intimate level, if you ask me, but then again I'm not in their shoes.

At any rate, I can't deny that I grew quite attracted to Steel, although I still haven't figured out how it happened, since he's so ill-natured most of the time, and when I first met him I would have gladly shot him.

But then he saved my life, and that's when I started to see him in a different light. That's also when I got a glimpse of his inner self, which is so different from the mask he likes to wear. Add it to the fact that he's quite handsome, with smooth, blond hair that begs to be stroked, grey eyes that sometimes turn the nicest blue, and a full lower lip that feels so soft and warm.

How do I know? Well, that's an awfully private question to ask, so I plead the fifth. Of course, if you're really interested, you could always go read my previous log.*

Anyway, that's what happened lately.

I hadn't seen my elemental friends for over four months, so I was beginning to think that maybe time had taken a break, although I should have known better: time, just like crime, never goes on vacation.

It was the end of my Friday afternoon shift. I was running after a guy who just tried to rob an ATM, and who happened to do so in front of the hot dog stand where I was buying my dinner. I knew I didn't need to call in for reinforcements, for the fellow wasn't even armed. I was running much faster than him, so I also knew that I was going to catch him.

All of a sudden, though, something happened. The fabric of space somehow changed for a split second, causing me to lose my footing and land hard on the sidewalk.

My confusion was much harder to control than the sudden pain to my knees and hands, so I just sat on the pavement for a couple of minutes, trying to figure out what happened.

When I managed to get up, very slowly and wincing from the pain to my bruised limbs, I had the impression that something was wrong, almost out of place. So I looked around but, although I knew there was something different in the buildings, I couldn't quite pinpoint what it was.

I slowly walked back to the hot dog stand to ask the owner if he had seen the thief, but he wasn't there anymore. Maybe he quickly moved the stand to avoid troubles. Nobody likes to have the police around asking questions.

Resigned, I decided to go looking for my dinner someplace else, but first I had to report the incident to the station. I extracted my radio and opened the channel, but all I got in response were statics. I tried recalibrating the device, but still no change. So I figured that it probably got damaged in the fall, and when I tried to take my cell phone out of my jacket's inner pocket, I came out empty-handed. I couldn't have misplaced it, since the pocket was securely zipped up.

The first rational explanation that came to my mind (why do we always try to rationalize what we cannot understand?) was that I forgot it at home in the morning, although that did not explain the zipped-up pocket. To my credit, I must say that I did look at my watch to check if time was flowing normally, but it was working quite well, and it showed the exact time: 7:30 pm. So I ruled out a time incident and settled to take my car and reach the station.

Too bad the car was missing, too. I begged: please, not the car! That was my personal vehicle, a nice – well, decent – Toyota Four Runner that had served me well for over 10 years. I walked around for a few minutes, but my faithful 4WD was nowhere to be seen. Fuming, I began walking toward the station, which was approximately 20 minutes away on foot.

I was trying to figure out why these things always happen on Monday mornings and Friday evenings, so I wasn't paying the due attention to my surroundings. If I had, I probably would have noticed that the car models looked obsolete, and the shop windows had an outmoded look.

When I reached the station, I unsuspectingly climbed the two flights of stairs that lead to the office I share with my fellow officers and marched into the room, still mulling over the incident, when I was suddenly stopped by a stocky man who was wearing the detective badge, but who was a total stranger to me. Only when he asked me if I needed something, I looked around and noticed that I knew none of the people inside the office.

_'Well'_, I thought, _'I'm so upset I even got into the wrong office'_, so I just apologized with the man and told him that I was trying to reach the detective squad, but that I had evidently entered the wrong room.

Only when he confirmed that that _was _the detectives' office, did I notice that everything looked wrong. There were no computers, no keyboards, no screens. Every desk sported an old-fashioned disk phone and typewriter, and piles of yellow paper folders. And almost everybody was smoking. That explained the terrible smell that was making my nose burn.

I probably heard the detective's question only the third time he asked it: "Who are you looking for, ma'm?"

I tried to sound nonchalant. "I'm looking for a detective Stunt."

The man shook his head. "Sorry, ma'm, there's nobody with that name here. Maybe I could help you find him in the station?"

"It's not a him; it's a woman. Constance Stunt."

The man chuckled. "A woman? There are no female detectives here. I know there's a couple of them at the Beverly Hills station, but that's 'bout it."

I mumbled a thank you and hastily left.

Once outside, I stopped a taxi and gave my home address. I was starting to have a very bad feeling about the whole affair.

Fifteen minutes later I was standing in front if the apartment building where I lived, and I couldn't help letting out a sigh of relief. At least my house was still where it was supposed to be. I climbed the stairs to the second floor and took out the keys to my little studio, already foretasting a nice, long shower and a hearty dinner, followed by some serious thinking.

But when I tried to unlock my door, I realized that the key didn't fit. I tried many times, to no avail. When I finally read the name on the bell, I winced: "Mark Shroediger". Who the hell was Mark Shroediger? I rang the bell and, sure enough, Mr. Shroediger showed up at the door.

"Yes?"

"Excuse me, does a Ms. Constance Stunt live in this building? I was given this address and suite number."

He scratched his balding head and shook it. "Constance Stunt? No, I'm sorry, there's no one with that name in this building. How does she look like?"

That was easy enough. "Well, she actually looks a lot like me."

He looked at me with a puzzled expression, but he shook his head again. "Then she definitely doesn't live here. Sorry 'bout that."

When he closed the door – my own door – on my face, I just stood there and stared at it for a good minute, unable to move.

Then I slowly left and walked out of the building, my mind reeling. What the hell was going on?

I kept walking without really paying attention to where I was going, and I finally found myself in front of the marina.

I almost bumped into a newspaper rack, and I had the brilliant idea of looking at the date on the front page of L.A. Times. The printed characters mercilessly claimed it was October 9, 1983.

1983? The date on the other newspapers wasn't different, so I could rule out a typo.

Dear God, somehow I was hurled back in time 30 years, no less! That explained the strange tearing I felt when it all started; it did not affect the fabric of space, but of time.

What the hell was I supposed to do now? The only possible solution was trying to get in touch with my elemental friends. After all, they were the experts on time misplacements, weren't they? So I sat on one of the piers and just stared at the water, concentrating hard in an effort to summon the time agents.

About an hour later my brain was fuming, but no familiar face had showed up yet.

I felt desperation crawling into my heart and shattering my resolve. I was alone, more alone than everybody else on Earth, for I did not belong to this time. Stranger in a strange time.

But misquoting Heinlein did not help me fight the overwhelming wave of hopelessness that slowly brought tears to my eyes.

Almost thankfully, I silently wept.

* * *

* Author's note: "Stunt" is the title of that story.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

"Please, don't cry."

I started, not out surprise, but out of relief, for I knew that voice.

I turned, and sure enough my elemental friend Mercury was crouched behind me, a worried expression on his handsome features.

A brief foreword on Mercury. I met him a few hours later than Sapphire and Steel and, although he didn't really work in any of our assignments, we shared a few difficult moments together. He's a very nice operator, and he's specialized in communications.

Without thinking, too relieved to care about my image of strong, tough detective, I threw myself at him. Without hesitating, he wrapped his solid and reassuring arms around me and hold me tight, soothingly stroking the hair at the back of my head.

After a while my sobs subsided, and I was able to open my eyes. Behind Mercury, at a distance of about five feet, I saw Sapphire and Steel, standing motionless and waiting for me to regain my composure.

Sapphire was smiling warmly, while Steel was looking at me with an expression I couldn't read.

Surprised, I said: "You all came."

Mercury replied, chuckling: "Well, not exactly all; just the three of us. I heard your call, but it was coming from such a great distance it took me a while to find you. I'm sorry we're late."

I managed a trembling smile. "It's OK. I was just getting very worried I was stranded here forever. Now that you have reached me, you can bring me back to my own time, can't you?"

Mercury's smile disappeared, making my hopes crumble.

But it was Steel's voice that answered me: "It's not that simple, detective. We can travel through time, but you can't."

I extricated myself from Mercury's embrace, and looked at him disbelievingly and – I must confess – quite aggressively. "What do you mean, I can't? I just did, for heaven's sake!"

He shook his head, making his smooth blond hair dance in the air for a split second. "You didn't do anything; somebody – or something – else forced you to."

I growled, angrier and angrier now that the cavalry had arrived: "Somebody or something?"

Sapphire answered my question with her flawless British accent: "We don't know yet, but we strongly suspect that time tried to get rid of you by sending you back here."

I gaped at her. "How did it do that?"

It was again Steel's turn to answer my question. "It probably had a human ally; that's the only way it can hit you. What we must figure out is how it plans to erase you from history."

This was definitely going to turn into the worst Friday evening of my entire life.

I mumbled: "Funny. I thought I just heard you say 'erase me from history'."

Steel looked at me with his trademark unemotional stare, but I was able to read something else in its grey depths. Sympathy, maybe?

He said: "That's the reason why it brought you here; either it wants to prevent you from being born, or it's counting on you to meet your own younger self and destroy both of you."

I still didn't understand. "How could it destroy both of us?"

"Not _it_; _you _would destroy yourself."

I raised a hand to massage my forehead, where I could feel a king-size headache starting to develop.

"Steel, just pretend I'm not following you for a minute. How the hell would I destroy myself?"

Sapphire, knowing that her partner was already losing patience for my not being able to follow his reasoning, answered my question: "Think about it, detective: your body carries atoms that belong 30 years in the future. What do you think would happen if they came into contact with the same atoms from 30 years earlier?"

"They would go boom?"

She smiled. "Crudely but accurately put."

My police training kicked in and demanded a counterattack.

"So, what do you propose we do to thwart time's efforts?"

Steel's pensive expression was reassuring: I knew that his mind would come up with a brilliant plan.

And, sure enough, after less than thirty seconds he voiced his thoughts to his hopeful friends.

"First of all, we need to make sure that your younger self still exists. How old were you in this year?"

I made a rapid mental calculation. "I was nine."

"All right. We will visit the house where you lived when you were nine and, if the child is still there, that means that time is counting on you to meet her and destroy both of you."

I asked, in awe: "I'm going to meet myself at nine?"

He pointed a very threatening index finger at me. "Yes, but be extremely cautious: you must not touch her, whatever happens. Is that clear?"

I nodded, dreadful of the consequences.

Sapphire added: "Even standing near her could be taxing, for both of you. It could make you both feel very ill. So Steel is right, detective: stand clear of that child, no matter how tempting it will be to see her and to speak with her."

I answered: "Don't worry, Sapphire: I have no intention of helping time on with its plans against me. I do remember where I was living at that age. Shall we go?" Now that we had a plan of our own, I was eager to plunge into action.

But Steel grabbed my arm and stopped me in my tracks. "Wait. We must first find out who time's accomplice is."

I asked, surprised: "How could we find that out?"

"It's simpler than you think. It has to be the person or the persons you were with when you were hurled back in time."

"But I was alone."

Sapphire interjected: "What were you doing?"

"I was running after a thief."

The blonde time agent flashed her beautiful smile at me. "Well then, there you are."

I asked, surprised: "The thief? Wait a second, he wasn't the only person around. There was also a hot dog seller nearby. I would say I was halfway between the two of them when it all started."

Steel said: "Then we will have to find out which one of them is time's ally, and we will also need his name, to hunt him down in this timeline."

Bluntly, I asked. "How?"

"One of us will return to the present and question both of them. The problem is, whoever goes won't be able to come back here again. We have depleted all our energies to teleport to the past, and cannot afford to bring back the person who goes, or we would _all _end up stranded here."

Sapphire volunteered: "I'll go."

Steel almost growled. "No, you won't. I don't want you to be alone with one – or possibly two – criminals. You are too closely related to time; it might sense your presence and decide to strike you instead. And you would be an easier prey than our detective: it wouldn't need a human agent to hurt you. And I won't be there to protect you."

Sapphire insisted: "But I'm better qualified to question a human; all I need to find out the truth is to touch him."

I knew that she was right, but I also knew that she had no chance of convincing Steel: he was far too fond of his partner to let her run such a risk alone.

Before Steel could protest again, the developing argument was broken up by Mercury, who wisely interjected: "No, Sapphire. Steel is right: it's too dangerous. Also, how could you communicate your findings this far in the past? Only I have the power to do that. And I'm quite adept at interrogating humans, too."

While Sapphire was glumly forced to agree with her colleague, I didn't miss Steel's thankful look to Mercury. Boy, either he really hated to be parted from his partner, or something significant happened before they were assigned to help me.*

The tall and dark-haired operator looked at me with his cobalt-blue eyes, and said: "Trust me, detective: I will soon find out who your enemy is and I will contact Sapphire to let you all know."

I was sorry to see him go. "Just be careful, Mercury. Don't underestimate those people. One looks too young to be dangerous and the other looks too ordinary, but one of them is as ruthless as time itself."

He dimpled at me. "I realize that. But I do have a few arrows in my quiver."

He then lifted one hand and softly cupped my cheek, lightly kissing the other one. "Take care of yourself, detective. I'll see you in the present."

With a final farewell look to his fellow operators, he promptly disappeared.

I silently led the two remaining time agents toward Santa Monica Boulevard, where I was hoping to find a taxi which could take us to Brentwood, the area where I used to live when I was a child.

Approximately thirty minutes later we got off the cab in a quiet residential area. I looked around, memories flooding my mind. I hadn't been there in at least fifteen years, but I quickly recognized my parent's house. Now they don't live there anymore; they sold the house and moved to Florida. Or maybe I should say they _will _move to Florida. Sometimes figuring out the right tenses can be confusing when time travel is involved.

I pointed at the house and said: "That's the one. That two-storey yellow house."

We were standing at a safe distance, but we didn't take the precaution of taking cover. We belatedly realized that we were quite conspicuous in that family-friendly neighborhood, not to mention the fact that we were wearing what probably like a very unusual style of clothing. Especially Sapphire, who as always looked overdressed in her blue, elegant dress and in her high heels.

When we heard a female voice addressing us from behind, I jumped a good foot, for I had recognized that voice. Although it sounded younger, that was my mother's unmistakable voice.

"Good evening. Are you looking for someone?"

We turned. My mother looked so nice and so young, I just stared at her open-mouthed, and I didn't immediately notice that she was holding a little girl's hand. When I looked down, I saw myself at nine. It felt like a blow to the stomach. Literally, because not only was I shocked to see my younger self, but I also suddenly felt so nauseated, I would have collapsed right there, hadn't Steel reacted quickly and put a supporting hand on my upper arm, painfully grasping my biceps with vice-like fingers, as if daring me to yield to panic.

Sapphire was the first to recover. "Good evening. We were just looking around this nice neighborhood. You know, my husband and I plan to move to Los Angeles, and our realtor, here, told us that Brentwood is a very safe and quiet area."

My mother looked at me, probably wondering why the _realtor _was turning slightly green, but I knew she was far too polite to make an observation. And of course she totally missed the resemblance with her own features, because the last thing she was expecting was seeing her own grown-up child.

She just replied enthusiastically: "Oh yes, she's right. Brentwood is a very pleasant place to live. As you can see, there isn't too much traffic and it's very safe, so it's actually the perfect place to raise a family."

If I weren't about to sprawl on the pavement, I would have laughed at the thought of Sapphire and Steel starting a family. My overloaded brain produced the oddest question: what would be the offspring of a union between a gem and an alloy?

Sapphire's answer was cut short by the girl suddenly bursting into tears. My mother questioned her worriedly: "What's the matter, dear?"

The girl sobbed. "I feel sick, mom. My head and my stomach hurt."

I knew how she was feeling, and I couldn't help sympathizing with her.

I've never been an illness-prone girl, so my mother became alarmed by the sudden quality of the girl's sickness. With a very worried look in her familiar green eyes, she said: "Excuse me, I need to go, now. My daughter Connie isn't feeling very well, and that's not like her."

Sapphire tried to relieve her anxiety. "She probably has got a bit of the seasonal flu. I heard that the virus is spreading again in schools."

My mother said, heading home: "Yes, I guess you're right. Well, good luck with your home hunting."

As soon as she turned her back to us, I felt entitled to give in to my own sickness. My knees buckled and I leaned against Steel, who promptly grabbed me and lifted me as if I weighted no more than a few pounds.

He carried me to a nearby playground, deserted because it was almost dinner time, and gently laid me down on a bench. I had closed my eyes and I was desperately trying to fight the overwhelming wave of nausea that seized me.

He softly stroked my forehead and asked: "Are you all right, detective?"

I was too busy trying to control the nausea to answer him. His voice grew uncharacteristically worried: "Detective? Can you hear me? Constance!"

I was so surprised to hear him call me by my given name, that I managed to briefly open my eyes, although my voice still refused to cooperate. Luckily Sapphire came to my rescue. "She can hear you, Steel. She just doesn't feel good enough to answer yet. Give her a moment."

Once he had ascertained that I wasn't about to die before his eyes, Steel became as irritable as usual, and grumbled: "That was a close call. We cannot afford to be so careless again."

Sapphire tried to soothe him: "It was nobody's fault. We had no way of knowing the mother was going back home precisely when we showed up."

I could hear that Steel was pretty upset. "We should have expected time to set up the right circumstance. We should know better than to fall into all its traps. This woman is counting on us to take her out of here, not to assist in her destruction."

I wanted to reassure him that I had the utmost faith in their capabilities, but I still didn't trust my own voice, so I just grabbed his hand and squeezed. That distracted him from his self-blaming outburst. I managed to open my eyes and looked into his grey ones, moved by the concern they couldn't hide.

I croaked: "Help me... sit up."

He put his arm on my back and gently pushed me up. When I was in a sitting position, he left his hand on my back and softly rubbed soothing circles to help me recover. His hand was warm and was conveying a strange form of healing energy that immediately made me feel better.

Thankful, I said, in a stronger voice: "Thank you. I feel much better now."

In a split second he was back to his callous self again: "Good, because I want to clear this area as soon as possible. Let's go."

He grabbed my arm and unceremoniously forced me to stand. I wasn't feeling good enough to walk yet, but I knew I couldn't change Steel's mind, so I just sighed and started walking, staggering just a little bit.

Another taxi carried us to a cheap motel in an entirely different area, where we shared a very small but otherwise clean room. My elemental friends could not teleport this time, because they had to spare the energy to return to their own time, so they were forced to spend the night the human way.

The room had two double beds, so I asked: "Well, who will be the lucky soul to get his or her own bed?"

Steel glared at me, so I asked, baffled: "What?"

It was Sapphire who answered: "Steel doesn't need to sleep. So I guess the beds are all ours, detective. He can spend the night on the armchair."

As if on cue, Steel sat on the shabby armchair, crossed his legs and looked like a patient waiting in the doctor's office.

Sapphire lay on one bed, closed her eyes and just went dead to the world. I envied her ability to shut off so quickly and easily. And then I thought: well, that's probably what she just did, she literally shut off. Somehow that seemed like a very... elemental thing to do.

I sat at the foot of my own bed, and asked Steel, in a low voice to avoid disturbing Sapphire: "How can you rest your brain if you don't sleep?"

"I can discontinue the thought-producing process, and still keep alert."

See, I wasn't far from the truth. I was impressed nonetheless. "Wow. So you don't dream either, I guess."

"I do not. Now try to get some sleep, detective. You, unlike me, need it."

I protested: "I'm too excited to sleep, Steel. Do you realize I just met myself? Not to mention my younger mother."

He nodded. "Yes, I do realize that. I also realize that you almost died because of that nostalgic encounter."

I couldn't let the chance slip by, and asked him: "By the way, that healing trick you did with your hand?"

"What about it?"

"Couldn't you use it to help me sleep?"

I couldn't read the look in his eyes, but it was definitely different than his usual expression.

He said: "Yes, I could do that, if you really need it."

I flashed him my most convincing smile, and said: "Yes, I really need it."

He said, standing up: "Lay down."

I complied eagerly, closing my eyes. He sat on the side of my bed and put one hand on my forehead and the other one on my shoulder. I could feel waves of soothing heat cross my upper body, but his closeness actually prevented me to relax.

He sensed that I was not unwinding, and asked: "What's wrong?"

I opened my eyes again and bored into his own grey ones. "Nothing's wrong. Your being so close to me brings back a few memories."**

I was sure he would pull back but, much to his credit, he didn't even flinch. A soft smile tugged instead at the corners of his mouth, and he said: "I am very fond of those memories. And I know a little trick that could help you both revive them and sleep."

I asked, intrigued: "What trick?"

He whispered: "This." Then he leaned forward and kissed me lightly on my lips. That feathery kiss did bring back memories of other, more passionate kisses we shared a few months before, but it also inexplicably and effectively sent me to sleep.

* * *

I was dreaming of Mercury. He was standing right in front of me, and he was saying something about the hot dog seller being very bright. Bright and dangerous. I slowly climbed back to consciousness with a nagging feeling that I should have remembered something important. Something that kept hiding in some remote part of my unconscious, refusing to surface.

When I opened my eyes, I looked around to locate my two partners. They were both sitting at the small table, and both had their eyes closed. They didn't look like they were sleeping though, so I reckoned they were receiving a mental communication, probably from Mercury. That's why I was dreaming of him: his thoughts reached my subconscious but they didn't make it to my consciousness, probably because of the huge distance they had to cross along the corridor of time.

I concentrated, but all I could hear was the wind whispering in my ears. So I decided to let my two friends do the job and went into the bathroom to shower.

When I got out, they were both standing and ready to go.

I grumbled: "You're not taking me anywhere before my morning coffee."

While I was fixing a much needed coffee, I took the chance to keep up to date.

"So, what did Mercury say?"

Steel was surprised: "You heard him? His voice was very faint. We barely picked up his words."

I shook my head, sipping my coffee. "No. I dreamt about him. He was saying that the hot dog seller is very bright. And very dangerous."

Sapphire smiled. "Pretty close. He said that the hot dog seller's name is Jerry Bryce. It was him, and not the thief, who conjured the time slip."

I snapped my fingers, finally nailing down the thought that kept eluding me. "Of course! It couldn't be the thief. He was too young, and he wasn't even born in 1983. But the hot dog seller looked in his 60s, so he's probably around 30 years old in this timeline."

Steel growled: "Why didn't I think about it? You did mention that the thief was young when you spoke with Mercury. How much more careless can I become?" Then he stormed out of the room, fuming.

Stunned, I asked Sapphire: "What's gotten into him?"

Frowning, she said: "He's angry at himself for not paying attention to that important clue you gave us yesterday."

I protested: "But none of us did, not even me! And I am supposed to be the detective. I should at least listen to myself."

"He's not like us. He's supposed to catch those seemingly insignificant details. It's really not like him to miss something so important. He's not concentrating enough during this assignment, and he's not taking it very well."

I felt sorry for him. "Isn't he a bit too harsh with himself?"

Sapphire made a small smile. "He always is."

When we heard his angry voice shouting from outside "What are you waiting for? A written invitation?", I added "And with everybody else, too."

Before leaving the room, I grabbed the yellow pages standing on the night table. When we reached him outside, I said, waving my trophy: "We need to find this Bryce's address, and then we need to rent a car. It's getting too expensive to get around by cab, and I'm not carrying much cash. My credit cards won't work, since they haven't been issued yet, so we need to watch our expenses."

Sapphire commented: "This city really isn't made for walking."

I laughed. "Walking? In L.A.? You could get arrested!"

Steel mumbled something in the line of "Why do they bother to send us here?", but I wasn't really listening, too busy to look up the hot dog seller's name in the directory. It took me a while, but I finally found him in Orange County. I memorized the address and grumbled: "I got you, son of a gun!"

After renting a brand new Dodge – well, it did look brand new, but it was a 30-year old model to me – I drove the 50 miles to Orange County. I was in a hurry, and when I'm in a hurry I tend to drive a bit carelessly. I was concentrating on the drive, but I could not miss Steel's paler than usual complexion. Was my elemental friend getting car sick or was my driving scaring the hell out of him? Either way, when I parked the car and shut off the engine he darted out of his seat and looked very relieved of being on solid ground again.

I couldn't help teasing him. "What's the matter, Steel? You don't like cars in general, or is it my driving?"

He just glared at me, and Sapphire answered in his place, barely hiding an amused smile: "I think both, detective."

Eager to change the subject, Steel said: "We need a plan before storming into Bryce's house. Are you armed, detective?"

I nodded: "Yes, I still have my handgun."

"Good. I don't want you to shoot him, though: that might change the future. You should use your weapon only as a means of persuasion."

"Got it. If you two guard the back door, I will go through the main door."

He sensed that my adrenaline was starting to rise to a dangerous level, preparing for battle. "Remember that he hasn't met you, yet. You don't need to crash the door. You can simply ring the bell and talk to him."

"What am I going to tell him?"

"I'm sure you can come up with a plausible story and convince him to let you in. Once you're in the house, you will restrict his movements and then you will let us inside. Sapphire will interrogate him."

That sounded easy enough, so I tried to relax a bit. I had to look calm and convincing.

I rang the bell and waited. After a couple of minutes, a male voice asked: "Who is it?"

I said, in my most coaxing voice: "Good morning. I'm from the IRS. Are you Mr. Bryce?"

His voice was suspicious: "Yes. What's that about?"

"It's about a tax refund. We need a few missing data to be able to give you some money back from last year's return." Nobody can resist a tax refund; it's like winning the lottery.

And, sure enough, the man opened the door instantly. Only it wasn't the hot dog seller. He did bear a vague resemblance, but this man was much older than the 30-year old I was expecting.

He gestured me to come in, and led me into his living room.

Before wasting my time telling the fake tax refund story, I asked him: "Are you Jerry Bryce?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm Stephen, his father. Jerry is right behind you and is going to knock you unconscious."

I was so stunned I didn't almost feel the pain on my head when somebody – presumably Jerry – hit me with something very hard and very blunt. Let me rephrase that: I did feel the pain, but it lasted only a split second. I was out cold before hitting the ground.

* * *

When something wet and cold hit my face, I spluttered something incoherent and slowly came to. The pain to the back of my head was pounding, and the light was aggravating.

When I tried to move I realized that I was tied to a chair. Based on the smell, I was in some sort of basement or cellar.

I laboriously tried to focus on the person standing in front of me. He was thirty years younger, but I recognized him immediately as the infamous hot dog seller.

I grumbled: "Son of a bitch."

He just laughed. "Oh, the pretty lady detective is not happy she's been outsmarted. How can we remedy that?"

"Start by telling me why you're doing this."

"Oh, that's right, you don't know why I hate you so much I want to erase you from history."

Was this guy stealing Steel's lines? Speaking of whom: where the hell were Sapphire and Steel?

I said: "I have never seen you before. I mean, I have, but it will be many years from now, and I will just buy a bloody hot dog from you. Why should you hate me for that?"

He was looking at me with a paranoid stare that spoke volumes of the man's sanity and was foreboding troubles. Big troubles.

"So, you've forgotten all about me. After you flushed my life down the toilet, you even have the guts to forget about it. What is it, a defense mechanism for your conscience? You ruin people and then you forget so that you can sleep peacefully at night?"

I really wasn't following him. "What are you babbling about?"

Uh oh, wrong remark. The guy got all red in the face and started yelling. I really don't have a knack for psychology.

"I'm talking about the ten years of prison I served because of you!"

I searched deep in my memory, but he wasn't there.

"I've never arrested a Jerry Bryce. I would remember your name."

His voice's volume lowered considerably, but now it carried a chilling tone that sounded much worse that the shouts. "That's because I didn't have that name when you arrested me. I was called Jerry Bright."

Jerry Bright! My God, I was the only one who got Mercury's message right. He did say he was Bright, not Bryce. He tried to warn us, but we couldn't hear him clearly enough.

And of course I remembered who Bright was. He was a bank robber we caught after an epic car chase approximately fifteen years ago. I mean, fifteen years from now. Whatever.

I remembered it very clearly, because it was my first arrest. I actually got my first promotion for that action.

Bluntly, I asked: "What happened to your beard and long hair?"

He looked surprised. "Beard and long hair? Really? I didn't think I'd fall for that hippy stuff, but that explains why you haven't recognized me."

Now I was utterly confused. "Wait a second. If you don't know how you will look like in fifteen years, how come you know what you will do, and above all how do you know I will arrest you?"

He made a creepy smile. "Because I've been told. By myself."

"How?"

"I will record a tape, where I will tell myself everything that is going to happen from now on, and I will send it back to 1983, meaning now."

I really couldn't buy that. "Send it back? I'm pretty sure SDA doesn't provide that service."

Enraged, he slapped my face with the back of his hand. The man didn't have an ounce of humor.

"Time helped me with that. We both want you dead."

"Why don't you just shoot me? Why this complicated plot?"

"Now you're using your brain at last. This is the first smart question you're asking. And it deserves a proper answer. You see, I want to give you the opportunity to save one of your friends' life."

I didn't like the sound of it, not one bit. He made a few steps back, and he lit another light in an adjoining vaulted room. The bulb was very weak, but the two people that were standing there, their hands tied in front of them, were unmistakable: both my elemental friends had been captured.

Steel's expression was as cold as his name, and Sapphire's was so sad it broke something inside me.

I asked them, almost shouting: "Why don't you just do something, for heaven's sake? Steel, grab this bastard and freeze him to death."

Steel just shook his head, and lowered his eyes. What the hell was going on?

It was Sapphire who explained. "We can't. Our elemental powers do not work when we travel in time. And, even if they did, we still couldn't do anything. Bryce will kill you if we try. So you see, our hands are tied in more ways than one."

I tried to reason with them. "Don't you understand? He will kill me anyway. At least you two can make it out of here."

It was Steel who answered this time. "Do you think we can just stand here and watch him kill you? After we've been sent to save you?"

I shook my head, disheartened. I knew I couldn't make him change his mind. I would have felt the same if I were in their shoes.

Bryce spoke again, clearly enjoying the moment. "How touching. They actually seem to care, don't they? Well, I'll let you in a little secret: they don't. They don't care about us humans. All they care about is upsetting time's plans. If they must sacrifice a little human or two to accomplish that, well, all the worse for us."

I didn't feel like denying that, mainly because I knew that it was partly true. I knew Steel would do anything to fight time's efforts to disrupt the present, including sacrificing human lives. Hell, I was pretty sure he would even sacrifice himself or his own partner.

Belatedly, I realized I wasn't being fair; Steel was refusing to let me die by the hands of this man, one of time's allies, although that would have set things right, and that at least proved that he cared.

With that comforting thought, I told Bryce: "You have a problem with me, not with them. Let them return to the present. I will stay here with you."

He laughed wickedly. "You wish. I'm sorry, but time wants a prey, too. So, my dear detective Stunt, now you have to make a very difficult choice."

Uh oh. I remembered he mentioned that I could save one of my friends' life. _One_?

He laughed again. That son of a gun was enjoying himself far too much for my taste.

"I can see from your face that you haven't missed what I said earlier. Good, I like to have an attentive audience. But let me explain the rules of my little game."

He turned around my chair and stopped behind me. He crouched and cut the rope that was tying me to the chair. Of course I didn't miss the gun he kept aiming at me.

"I'm not as mean as your elemental friends, you see, so I will actually spare one of them. You will probably wonder which one. Well, this is your lucky day. You get to choose!"

That said, he extracted another gun – my own – from one of his pockets, and put it in my hand, together with one bullet. I looked at him questioningly, refusing to believe what my mind had already grasped.

Once again he moved behind me, and said: "Now you will load the gun with that bullet, and you will make your choice."

I said, disbelievingly: "You're not expecting me to shoot one of my friends."

He chuckled. "Of course I am. If you want to save the other, that is. If you don't, I will personally make sure both of them die. Oh, and don't even think about shooting me instead: I'm aiming at your attractive head and I cannot miss from this distance."

I didn't ask him what he had in mind for me afterwards, because I already knew the answer. While I was fumbling to load the gun, I started thinking furiously, trying to find an escape route.

Bryce got impatient. "Hurry up! I don't have all day. Come on, it's easy enough: will you save the cold, ruthless and heartless Steel, or the warm, nice and sympathetic Sapphire?"

Easy for him to say. He didn't know the real Steel like I did. He didn't know that he is all but heartless, and that he actually cares about us. He has to make difficult decisions like every man must do in war, but he wouldn't hesitate to throw his own life in the equation. Like he was doing right now, together with Sapphire.

No, I couldn't make that decision. And then a thought hit me: I didn't _have_ to. Bryce stated the rules of the game, but who said I couldn't change them?

All of a sudden the solution came to my mind. It probably showed on my face somehow, because Steel looked at me in a funny way. Slowly he realized what I wanted to do, and his eyes became pleading. Wow, that was a first for me.

I looked at him apologetically, and he shook his head, while his lips formed the word "No".

I raised the gun, and I could hear Bryce holding his breath, foretasting his victory. Sapphire looked utterly confused. I knew she didn't think I could do the horrible thing I was about to do.

Steel said, in the saddest voice I ever heard him use: "Please, don't."

I wanted to tell him so many things, but all I could say was: "I'm sorry, Steel."

Then I aimed the gun at my own head, and fired.

* * *

*Author's note: Stunt is referring to my story "Alone".

**Author's note: she's referring to my previous "Stunt" story.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the end of my Friday afternoon shift. I was running after a guy who just tried to rob an ATM, and who happened to do so in front of the hot dog stand where I was buying my dinner. I knew I didn't need to call in for reinforcements, for the fellow wasn't even armed. I was running much faster than him, so I also knew that I was going to catch him.

All of a sudden, though, something happened. The fabric of space somehow changed for a split second, causing me to lose my footing. I was about to land hard on the sidewalk, when a pair of strong arms caught me and stopped my fall.

I was so stunned I reacted much slower than usual. When I looked up to know who my savior was, I found myself looking into a pair of well know grey eyes. What I most certainly didn't recognize was the smile flashing below those eyes.

Steel? Smiling broadly? What was going on? And where did he come from? And, above, all, why? Just to prevent me to fall? Nothing made sense.

Before I could voice my questions, he made something even more out of character: he hugged me tight, whispering in my ear: "It's so good to see you, Connie."

Connie? He called me Connie! What was the matter with him?

I untangled myself from his hug, looked at him disbelievingly, and asked: "What's wrong with you, Steel? Are you OK?"

A female voice from behind me answered in his place: "I think he's very OK, detective. Actually, I think he couldn't be better."

Sapphire. I turned to greet her, and I was surprised to see Mercury, too. They were all smiling at me, clearly delighted to see me. That was very flattering, but definitely unusual.

Suspiciously, I asked: "All right, guys, what the hell is going on?"

Mercury answered: "Can you spare an hour, detective? We have a rather long story to tell."

* * *

I was sitting in my armchair, at home, where we all gathered after I gave up pursuing my little ATM robber and decided to listen to their story. I was gaping at Mercury, who had just finished telling me what happened in 1983.

"What? I committed suicide?" My voice sounded high-pitched to my own ears.

He said: "Yes. Right in front of them." And he looked at his two fellow operators.

Sapphire had closed her eyes, probably reviving the horror of such scene, while Steel had lowered his gaze, unable to look at me. Dear God, I could only image how they must have felt. They were sent to save me, and they were forced to watch me die. By my own hands.

But I still had an important question to ask. "Then why am I still alive?"

It was Mercury who answered me once again. Neither Sapphire nor Steel had uttered a word since he began his narration. "You are still alive because you removed the only thing that was out of time in 1983: yourself. Constance Stunt, the original one, was nine years old; she grew up into a fine police woman who today happened to chase a thief and escape a trap set up by time against her."

I was confused, to say the least: "You mean I escaped that trap by killing myself?"

"Yes. The moment you did that, time could not destroy your younger self anymore, and was forced to give you up."

Steel talked for the first time in about an hour: "You see, detective, no one can change the past, and consequently the future. Not even time itself. But it's very stubborn and it keeps trying. It just didn't expect a nut with such a hard shell to crack."

It was still very difficult to grasp. "I still can't believe I killed myself. Why did I do that? I most certainly didn't know that was the only solution to the time rift."

Steel answered again. "You probably figured that out somehow. You have learnt a lot since you began working with us. But I suspect you did it for an entirely different reason: you didn't want to shoot one of us."

Yes, that made sense. I knew I couldn't stand the thought of killing one of my friends. So the fact that I was still alive was just a side effect of that decision. Not very reassuring.

I was speechless for a few minutes, and the others didn't feel like interrupting my thoughts, letting me digest the whole story.

I decided to fix a cup of tea to calm my thoughts, which were making my head reel. When I finally sat down again with a reassuring steaming cup in my hands, I asked: "Could time try again?"

They knew what I was asking: was I safe anymore? Couldn't time set up a similar trap again and again? How could I live with peace of mind, knowing that virtually anytime I could find myself hurled back in the past?

I expected Steel to answer my question, and he didn't disappoint me.

"We cannot guarantee anything, but if there's one thing we have learnt about time, it's that it is very imaginative; it would never try the same trick twice. And believe me, we have fought it for a _very _long time, so I think I can reassure you from that standpoint."

The other two operators nodded convincingly, and I did feel reassured. I trusted their judgment and their experience.

Mercury added: "Look at the bright side, detective: now you know what you must do the next time you find yourself unwillingly sent to the past!"

His eyes were gleaming, so I knew that he was actually kidding, but for some reason that thought did contribute to reassure me. Of course, that would mean committing suicide again, but at least now time knew that I was willing to cross that line to escape its assaults.

I still shivered involuntarily, though, thinking that in some alternate timeline my other self had the guts to shoot herself in the head.

Mercury stood and came to say goodbye. He hugged me and said: "You have been very brave, detective. You would make a fine time agent. Take care of yourself." Then he briefly kissed my cheek, and disappeared.

Sapphire also prepared to leave, by standing and saying: "Goodbye, detective. I look forward to working with you again. Thank you for sparing our lives."

Then she also disappeared, leaving me and Steel alone, knowing that we needed a longer time to say our goodbyes.

He said: "She's right, you know?"

"About what?"

"About the fact that we owe you our lives."

I shrugged. "Just one of you, actually. Not both."

Then he surprised me with a very unexpected question: "Who would you have chosen?"

I said: "I hope you're asking it rhetorically."

He leaned against the door frame, hands behind his back, ankles crossed. "You know what Bryce said when he was forcing you to make a decision? He said that it was easy enough: would you save the cold, ruthless and heartless Steel, or the warm, nice and sympathetic Sapphire?"

I stared at him for a good minute, speechless. Then I crossed the short distance between us and, standing right in front of him, I looked at him in the eye, and said: "It is true that you are cold, ruthless and heartless."

He averted his gaze, but I forced him to look at me again by cupping his cheek with one hand. "But that only stands for those who don't know you. That is your mask. Granted, you wear it very tight, but people like Sapphire and me, and probably also some of your fellow operators, know that it hides something much deeper. I have seen you without that mask, Steel, and I liked what I saw; you may not want to hear what I'm about to say, but sometimes you can be more human than us human beings. Which might be a problem from where I stand."

He asked, softly: "Why?"

I inched closer. "Because that part of you attracts me very much."

He put his hand over my own. It was surprisingly warm. "Last time I looked, you were running from me."

I briefly entertained the thought of giving him a cunning answer, such as: "I'm not running now", but what stopped me then still stood today. Sapphire. I still hadn't grasped their relationship fully, but one thing was certain: they loved each other. The fact that they weren't expressing that feeling in a human way didn't mean that the feeling wasn't there.

What I didn't understand, though, was what attracted Steel to _me_. I was just a human being, after all, and I knew he didn't think very highly of my species. But I didn't feel like asking him; I was too scared he would tell me something like he wanted to know what an exotic affair with an unrefined, rough earthling would feel like.

But he probably sensed my thoughts through our hands, which were still touching, and he said: "Exotic? Do you really think I would just give in to such a frivolous desire?"

Not bad for someone who claimed not to have empathic abilities.

At this point I couldn't hide my question anymore; it was probably just beaming inside my mind like a huge flashing sign. "Then why me?"

"Because you noticed that mask in the first place, and because you wanted to know what lies behind. Because with you I can remove it and still feel safe."

"You can do that with Sapphire, too."

"Yes, but what Sapphire and I share goes beyond anything you could conceive as a human being. We are elements, we live in a different plane of existence. I couldn't explain that to you in human terms."

Now I was even more confused. "Then why do you want to kiss me right now?" I may not be an empath, but I'm a woman, and sometimes that helps more than empathy or telepathy.

My blunt question tugged a smile at the corners of his lips. "I _always _want to kiss you."

"Very flattering, but you haven't answered my question." I was playing cool, but my heart skipped a beat at his comment.

"We have been given human shape to work among humans. These shapes cannot change our characters, but they are molding our needs. Some of us relish eating food, others enjoy human company."

I snorted. "Oh, come on; you don't like to stay among humans. That's pretty obvious."

"Not among most humans. A few of them I find very attractive. Like you."

I didn't say anything, trying to decide if I was glad to be included in his very exclusive list or if I was sorry to hear that I wasn't the only one in it. I couldn't resist asking him: "How long is that list?"

He got closer. "Short. Very, very short."

I gulped. He was too close for comfort, too close for self-control. His grey eyes turned a beautiful deep shade of blue, and his lips were so tempting.

_'Don't look at his lips!' _I warned myself, but it was too late. No need to be a telepath to know that now _I _wanted to kiss him.

So I really didn't stand a chance when he closed the very short distance between our two mouths and grazed my lips with his, at last. I closed my eyes and moaned, thinking that I had missed those lips so badly. He put his arms around me, and I realized that I had also missed his scent. His light kisses slowly became more demanding, and I gladly surrendered and gave him full access.

Didn't I tell you before that he can be a very passionate man? Well, I can endorse that.

The kiss we shared was meant to fill the long months we spent apart, trying to suppress a feeling that neither of us wanted to express aloud.

But we both knew that that feeling was not meant to be expressed, so we slowly, reluctantly broke that breathtaking kiss. I couldn't take my eyes off him, trying to absorb every feature of his handsome face, not knowing when I would see him again.

He hesitantly broke our embrace, and my body instantly missed his presence.

He slowly caressed my cheek, and said, with a very grave expression: "I should go now. Please, don't ever do that again."

I didn't understand what he was referring to. "Do what?"

He closed his eyes. "Kill yourself in front of me. You broke my heart."

"I couldn't take your life. Or Sapphire's. So I cannot promise you that I won't do that again."

"Find some other way. You're so resourceful."

I managed a small smile. "Don't worry. Committing suicide again isn't in my list of top priorities."

He just nodded, accepting that light-hearted remark as a promise.

He looked at me longingly, then disappeared, leaving a void much bigger than his slight frame.

Well, welcome back to 2013, detective Stunt.


End file.
